Tearing through the pages and the ink
by FancifulRivers
Summary: Ginny has a lot to work through. Lucky there's a support group. AU. Written for the OTP AU! Competition.


**Author's Note: I do not and never will own HP.**

 **Written for the OTP AU! Competition. Pairing: Luna/Ginny. Prompt: Support Group AU.**

 **Quote at the beginning from Halsey "Colors."**

"You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece."

It starts as a joke. Who would go to a support group for people affected by Voldemort? Wouldn't that be the whole country?

Ginny shows up anyway, and is surprised to see that she's not the only one. Luna Lovegood sits in the back, legs crossed at the ankles and a weeping willow circlet atop her straggly blonde hair. Harry's there, too, nervously flattening the hair over his scar, and Hermione, her lap filled with a massive clipboard and a peacock quill. There's more, but Ginny doesn't pay attention to them, just scratches her calf with her wand and sits next to Loony.

It seems pointless, the first meeting. It's run by a mediwitch from St. Mungo's, some officious-looking twit with poofy blonde hair and glasses on a chain. You're here to talk about feelings, she says in a droning sort of voice, ignoring the snickers that run across the room like the crackle of popcorn. _No, I'm not,_ Ginny wants to say, but she doesn't have anything else, so she says nothing.

When it's over, she goes out for coffee with Luna, Harry, and Hermione. Hermione sticks her quill through her bushy hair and pours six sugars into her drink, cupping the sides like the warmth can penetrate more than her skin.

"Well, that was pointless, wasn't it?" Ginny says, and Harry snorts, scratching at his forehead and dipping his biscuits into his tea.

"Are you going to go back?" Luna asks, and Ginny pauses for a moment before nodding. It _is_ pointless, but she hasn't got anything better.

They all show up at the second meeting, and she sits next to Luna again. Ginny doesn't understand why, but the dreamy-eyed girl feels more like home than the Burrow ever did, and the thought frightens her a bit. Her mum tells her that she should ask Harry out, but she doesn't want to. She's grown out of him, like outgrowing a comfortable pair of shoes, and that isn't something you can tell your mother, no matter how close you are.

The mediwitch has been replaced by Poppy Pomfrey, and Ginny's stomach drops to her socks. The nurse looks older and she's developed a twitch near one eye.

When it's time to share, she doesn't understand why, but she raises her hand, pretending the tremble in her fingers is caused by the chill in the room.

"Tom Riddle possessed me when I was eleven," she says, and goes on. It feels like excising some noxious fluid from her system, dripping basilisk poison into the ears of everyone around her. Luna squeezes her hand midway through, and Harry can't keep his eyes on her. Hermione's gone the colour of milk and gasps aloud when Ginny gets to the bit where he takes her down to the Chamber.

When she's finished, she feels hollowed out, but it's a pure sort of empty, and Ginny smiles.

Walking out, Luna won't let go of her hand, and she likes it more than she wants to admit. The four of them go out for coffee again, but Ginny squeezes in next to Luna and plays aimless footsie under the table. When a server drops a cup, all four of them alert to the sound of the smash, and Ginny nearly blurts out a curse before she realises where she is. Harry laughs and Hermione lets out a shaky breath that sounds more like a sob.

"Well, we're a mess, aren't we?" Ginny snorts.

"I suppose that depends on your definition," Luna replies, twirling her hair around her fingers. Her eyes hold a wealth of ghosts.

Ginny walks her home, to the flat above a tea shop, decorated with tinsel in the middle of July and flower pots on the windowsills. She hesitates on the steps, but Luna seizes her hand and tows her up anyway, nearly tripping over the door frame.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" Luna asks, suddenly serious.

"Go ahead," Ginny whispers. She can't stop shaking all of a sudden, but it's a good shaking, like the fizzing in your stomach you get when you're about to hit something good, when things are going great for once. Luna's lips are warm like the coffee she drank and softer than Ginny's ever imagined. Her hands grasp Luna's elbows like an anchor.

"That was nice," Luna breathes some inestimable time later. Ginny nods.

"Want to walk together to the next support group meeting?" Ginny blurts out, feeling like an idiot. It's not for another week.

Luna smiles.

"Yes, please," she says, brushing Ginny's cheek with her fingers.


End file.
